A less than super man
by dicaprio
Summary: It's May 2013; Syed and Christian have no money, no jobs and no choice but to return to the Square; where Danny is waiting. [This story is mostly about Syed and Danny]
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_15 May 2013_

"I never thought I'd say this, but I'm relieved to be back?" Christian happily exclaims, dropping his bag onto the bed.

"Yea, for sure," Syed agrees unenthusiastically.

"What? What's that look for?" Christian demands, his voice ringing with irritation.

"Nothing," he shrugs.

"Seriously, what's p*ssing you off now?"

"I'll go get some food; fill the empty cupboards," Syed suggests by way of response.

"Yea, go on, run away as usual," he calls after him. "I'll pop over to the Vic to see Rox; it'll be a nice change to hang out with someone who can raise a smile once in a while," he adds sarcastically, but Syed has already left.

#

As he walks down the street, Syed looks around him; unable to quite believe that they are back where they started; even to the point of having moved back into the bedsit above the Chippy. He hasn't told his family he's coming home; and is dreading having to admit to them that once again he's failed.

"Syed," Tamwar cries, when he rounds the corner and spots him. Rushing towards him, he throws his arms around his brother; forgetting his normal reserve in his delight at seeing him once again.

"Tam," Syed responds happily, returning his embrace.

"When did you get back? You never said you were coming back?"

"It was a last minute thing," he fudges the truth.

"Well, this is fantastic; come back to the house; mum will be thrilled."

"Okay," Syed agrees; his spirits lifting, as he thinks that maybe things aren't so bad after all.

#

"Syed," Zainab cries, rushing out to enfold him in her arms.

"Mum," he mumbles, burying his head in her shoulder. And suddenly, he's crying and holding onto her for dear life.

"Hey, what's this?" she asks with a surprised laugh.

"I've missed you all," Syed mumbles without letting go.

"We've missed you, too, Papoo," she responds, her eyes welling up.

"He's only been away for six months," Masood teasingly reminds them, his eyes raised to the ceiling.

"Dad, hi," Syed says tearfully, and Masood gets his hug. Kamil also gets a hug, and in the end everyone is a little tearful.

"So, how are Jasmin and Christian, and Amira?" Zainab asks, once they are sitting eating a quickly-prepared meal.

"Yea, good," Syed responds.

"Now that you're back in London, will you still get to see Jasmin?" Masood asks.

"I'm not sure how it's going to go, to be honest. I wish we could have made things work in Birmingham; but we weren't able to get steady employment, and there was no hope of it getting any better."

"You'll sort something out," Zainab confidently assures him, squeezing his hand comfortingly.

"I hope so," he agrees.

They catch up for a little while, and Syed then reluctantly heads back to the bedsit.

#

"Where did you go for food, back to Birmingham?" Christian asks as soon as he walks in the door.

"I ran into Tam, we went back to the house, got chatting, lost track of time."

"So, where's the food?"

"Oh, sorry, mum made dinner; I forgot to go to the Minute Mart on my way back."

"Thanks," Christian says sarcastically.

"Did you have any luck with Roxy?"

"Yea, she's going to give me as many shifts as she can; she's pure gold, that girl."

"Yea," Syed agrees. "And that's one more backwards step we've taken by coming home," he thinks unhappily.

###

"How are things?" Syed asks, walking into the Argee Bhajee the next morning.

"Yea, good, we're pretty busy most days, and I've had a few lunchtime reservations already this morning," Tamwar replies.

"Didn't expect to find you back here again; you weren't exactly happy first time around."

"I hadn't spent a few weeks working in the Minute Mart back then."

"No you hadn't," Syed smiles. "At least here you're your own boss."

"I'd still like to go to university, but there just isn't the money at the moment to …"

"Well, I'm glad the restaurant's busy; I won't keep you, just popped in to say hi," Syed quickly interrupts, and turns to leave.

"Syed, wait," Tamwar calls after him, "if you're looking for work, I could use the help."

"No, don't think that's a good idea, thanks anyway. I was just about to head down to the unemployment office to register, see you later," Syed declines. He leaves before Tamwar can add anything further.

_That afternoon_

"Syed, you're going to help Tamwar in the restaurant," Zainab greets him as he walks in the front door of the house. "Mas, tell him."

"Well …," Masood begins doubtfully.

"Mas," she growls, giving him a daggers look.

"I can't …," Syed begins.

"Your mum's right, you …," Masood begins.

"It's settled then," Zainab decides.

"I'll wait on tables, nothing more; I won't touch the books," Syed mumbles, embarrassed.

"Your bother will be happy to have you back," Zainab says confidently; and the matter is settled without any further awkwardness.

###

_A couple of days later_

"I'm popping to the Off-licence, we're short on whiskey," Tamwar calls as he pulls the restaurant door closed after him.

Around five minutes later, Syed walks in from the kitchen on hearing someone enter. "What do you want?" he angrily demands, his friendly smile fading as soon as he sees who it is.

"Syed, hi; didn't expect to be seeing you again," Danny greets.

"We're closed," he snaps, doing his best to keep his voice steady; and keep hidden the fact that his insides have just turned to jelly.

"I don't think so," Danny responds, checking his watch.

"What are you doing around here?"

"I live here now. Remember, I was looking to buy a penthouse back in October; well I bought one; it's just off Devas Street, about 5 minutes away."

"You're not welcome in this restaurant," Syed barks, his outward hostility hiding his sense of panic at what this bit of information means.

"I've come to make a booking for later, there will be six of us; I wouldn't have thought you were in a position to turn away six big spenders."

"What time?" Syed responds through gritted teeth.

"12.30."

"We have a table available," he concedes, making a note in the book. "If that's all," he adds pointedly.

"Where's the rush; you're not exactly run off your feet at the moment," Danny notes, looking around the empty room.

"We have nothing to say to each other," Syed snaps, his voice icy.

"Are you sure about that? You might be surprised," Danny says, with an 'I know something you don't' look.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"See you soon," Danny softly threatens, before walking out, leaving Syed looking uneasily after him.

"He hasn't given up," he thinks with a shiver. "He hasn't given up."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_A few days later_

Christian and Syed sit eating their breakfast; Christian is talking about something funny that happened in the Vic, and Syed is pretending to listen. "We've slipped back into our old routine as if the past few months had never happened," he thinks despondently.

"I said, _I've been thinking_; Syed, are you listening to me?" Christian says impatiently.

"Yea, what about?" he automatically replies.

"We need to get in touch with Amira about seeing Yasmin; maybe we could suggest having her for a couple of weeks at a time, so that it would be worthwhile bringing her down to London."

"Amira's split up with Jake; she's moving back to London," Syed responds.

"Really, but that's brilliant," Christian cries. "Of course it's a shame for Amira but … When did she tell you? And why didn't you tell me?" he adds, the tone of the last question slightly accusing.

"She phoned yesterday. She's suddenly decided she's bored and wants to come home; Birmingham is very different from Paris, apparently."

"Okay, well, we'll just have to make sure she only dates London guys from now on," Christian says happily. "And, I was thinking it might be a good idea to have another look at adopting; it would be nice ..."

"Christian, right now we can't even afford Yasmin," Syed reminds him.

"… for Yasmin to have a little brother or sister," Christian continues, warming to his theme. "I mentioned it to Rox, and she said that no one's lived at 43a since we left. She also offered to loan us the deposit, so that we can move back in there straight away. Rox thinks we now have an even better chance of being considered for adoption, because we've proven ourselves well able to look after a child. Yasmin could even vouch for us," he eagerly suggests.

"Meet around corner from AB at 12. Urgent. Your family," the text from Danny instructs.

"Am I boring you?" Christian asks tetchily.

"What?" Syed asks distractedly.

"Who is the text from?"

"Tam; he needs me to come in at 12 instead of 3 today."

"So, what do you think?"

"About what?"

"The adoption."

"I don't know; maybe we're taking on too much."

"Nonsense; after I've finished my shift, I'll check with the landlord to find out how soon we can move into the flat," Christian decides, getting up and taking his dish and glass to the sink.

"Okay," Syed capitulates with a sigh.

"You could at least sound slightly enthusiastic about it?"

"I am," Syed lies, "it's just that I can't believe we're back to where we were a year ago."

"Yea, and whose fault is that? It wasn't me who f**ked up," Christian bitterly reminds him. "Where are you going?"

Syed can't summon the effort to think up an excuse; so he doesn't, he simply walks out.

"Sy, come back; I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring it up again; I know it's all in the past, that we've moved on," Christian calls after him, but it's too late.

###

_12 noon_

"What do you want?" Syed growls, as soon as he comes face to face with Danny.

"How are things? What've you been up to?" he casually responds. "How's married life treating you?"

"None of your business; tell me why you asked me to come here, and what it has to do with my family."

"Saw you with Christian yesterday; you looked miserable."

"If you're planning to start hassling me again, you can forget it," Syed firmly sets him straight. He starts to turn to walk away.

"Did your parents tell you that whilst you were away they got a loan to re-open the Argee Bhajee; that they put their home up as collateral," Danny stops him in his tracks.

"And? What's your point?" Syed affects a bored tone, attempting to give the impression that this is not news to him. He is overcome with a feeling of dread, as he waits for the answer.

"And I now own the loan, and can call it due in at any time."

"How is that possible?"

"The government is giving cheap credit to banks at the moment, charging them low interest rates; to encourage the banks to lend to small businesses. All I had to do was get a colleague to phone your dad with a 'special offer' loan at a really cheap rate of interest, an 'opportunity too good to miss'; the usual bullsh*t people spout over the phone when they are trying to sell stuff. And once the loan agreement had been signed, he passed all the paperwork over to me."

"So, what are you saying?"

"If I don't get the £500 you owe me by tomorrow evening, I'm going to make your family homeless."

"But it's you who owes my family money," Syed responds, bewildered. "You could go to jail for fraud," he tries to repeat his father's threat of a few months earlier.

"I've got all my files in order now; your family couldn't prove anything," Danny easily waives the threat away. "So, like I said, £500 tomorrow evening."

"I don't have that kind of money," Syed pleads, but Danny is already walking away.

###

_Later that day_

"Hi Phil," Syed greets, with a big friendly smile, as he walks into the Garage.

"What do you want?" he returns, with no smile.

"I think there's a way you and I could help each other out, actually."

"And I think you're nothing more than a flashy chancer going nowhere; now p*ss off before I give you a smack in the mouth, just because it's been a few weeks since I've hit anyone.

Syed shrugs his shoulders to let Phil think he doesn't really care either way, and walks out of the garage with his head held high. He spots Michael further up the street, but hasn't the stomach for another verbal slap in the face. Sometimes, he wishes people were a bit nicer; and other times he wishes he'd gotten an office job when he left Uni, and settled for a steady wage; so that he wouldn't have to deal with the Phil's, Michael's and Danny's of this world.

#

"Don't suppose you've got a spare £500 lying around, bro," he half-heartedly asks Tamwar that evening as they set the tables for dinner.

"I'm supposed to be the funny one in this family," Tamwar responds. "And, to be honest, it's still a little too soon for you to be making jokes like that."

"Yea, sorry," Syed murmurs embarrassed.

"Ian looking for a deposit to let you stay in the bedsit?"

"Yea, but Christian will sweet talk him; it'll be fine."

"I've only got about £200 left in my bank account after I've paid everything," Tamwar admits; "but if you're really stuck …"

"No, Tam, don't even think about it," Syed quickly refuses the offer; overcome with a rush of guilt at his brother's generosity even after everything that's happened. "I really don't deserve you," he adds wretchedly after a few minutes.

"No, Syed, it's me who really doesn't deserve you," Tamwar teases.

"Did mum and dad happen to mention where they got the money to re-open this place?"

"A relative of mum's, I think?" Tamwar replies. "Not sure who it could be, though; I didn't think we were on particularly good terms with anyone on her side of the family. I give her the money to cover the loan repayments in cash at the end of each month, but I'm not exactly sure what she does with it."

"Right," Syed says uneasily. He knows there isn't any 'relative'; that they told Tamwar this story to stop him worrying. He remembers his mum mentioning in a phone call, a month or two ago, that they were worried about him sinking into depression; this was obviously a way of giving him a purpose. They risked everything to help Tamwar; and he, Syed, was to blame; he put them in this position. He knew he couldn't let them down again …


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 **

_The following evening_

As Syed approaches the expensive-looking block of flats, he has a bad feeling. Standing indecisively for a few minutes outside the main entrance, he wonders, even at this late stage, if there could possibly be any other way out; but of course there isn't; so he takes a big, shaky breath, and forces himself to press the buzzer for the top floor apartment. After a short wait, he is buzzed in without any acknowledgement.

When he steps out of the lift, Danny is standing at the front door, waiting. "Welcome to my humble abode," he greets, smug smile firmly in place.

Without responding, Syed walks past him into a large, bright, open-plan apartment; which he notes has a slightly similar colour scheme to the place where he stayed when he first arrived in London; although this apartment has a much more luxurious feel to it, and includes stunning views of the City from whichever window you care to look through.

"Would you like something to drink?" Danny offers.

"No thanks."

"Sit, relax; there's no need to look so scared, I don't bite," he assures with a mocking smile.

"I've only got £200,"Syed says sharply, his voice little too loud in his anxiety.

"So, I take it your family won't mind squeezing into that bedsit with you and Christian, then," Danny replies, unfazed.

"If you give me a couple of weeks, a month, you'll get the rest. I'll get a second job and give you every penny I earn, I promise."

"The thing is, I need the money now," Danny says, his tone regretful.

"No you don't, because this obviously isn't about the money," Syed impatiently denies, gesturing to all the expensive furniture around him. "So you must be doing it to get some kind of revenge for some perceived wrong you feel I've done you; which is unfair, because it was you who ruined my life. If this is about the fight you had with Christian, or about that time I punched you ... I can't think what other reason you would have for coming after me like this."

"Oh, I think you can," Danny murmurs.

"Please let it go," Syed says softly, his eyes looking away, his cheeks flushed.

"Do you have any idea how long it would take me to destroy your family? In fact, I can show you; a quick phone call will set the wheels in motion." Danny picks up his phone, and appears to be searching for a number.

"I can't just magically conjure up £300, and I won't do anything illegal," Syed cries desperately.

"Technically, buying dodgy cleaning products was illegal."

"What about what you're doing? My parents have an agreement with the bank."

"You think I can't find a loophole?"

"Are you really so desperate to hurt me, just because I rejected what you were offering?"

"If we're being honest; rather than rejecting me, wasn't it really more about you being guilted into staying with someone you'd out grown; and, of course, being too cowardly to take a chance.

Hi, Tom, it's Danny. I need to have a word with you about the Masood Account," Danny speaks to the person on the other end of the phone.

"Danny, please; I really can't cope with this right now; my life's such a mess. Just ... please," Syed implores, his hand moving distractedly through his hair.

"Actually, can I call you back, something's come up? Okay, bye." Danny ends the call, and looks expectantly towards his prey.

"Things haven't been ... easy recently ... you've got to give me more time," Syed searches for the words; tries to think of something, anything to say that will gain him some breathing space; his voice is strained with the effort to control his rising panic.

"That's all very unfortunate, but it doesn't change anything," Danny responds, his tone light and unbothered; masking his inner rage. He senses he now finally has him; and in the moment hates him more than he's ever hated anyone; this man who has tormented his thoughts for the past six months.

"You thought you could play games with me," he murmurs, speaking almost to himself. "You so picked the wrong guy."

"Why did you really bring me here? What do you want from me?" Syed asks nervously, suddenly afraid of the look in his eyes. "What can I do to get you out of my life forever?"

"Well, I suppose you could work off the money."

"Of course, I'll do anything," he too-eagerly pounces on the glimmer of hope being offered.

"I need someone to help me with some research work and other bits and pieces."

"I can do that."

"It would mainly involve gathering information, getting signatures on documents; delivering papers to the Old Bailey, the High Court or the Tax Office, the odd time; that kind of thing."

"Okay, sure," Syed agrees.

"You'd have to leave Christian, of course."

"What?"

"Maybe a bit of cooking."

"Why would I have to leave Christian?" Syed asks shakily.

"Well, you can't very well live here and still be in a relationship with him, can you?"

"Live here?"

"Yea, sex usually works better if the two people are in the same place; not always, but usually," Danny casually drops the final piece of the puzzle on him.

"What are you talking about?"

"What do you think I'm talking about?"

"I won't have sex with you just to pay off a trumped up debt," Syed angrily exclaims. "I love Christian, I could never betray …"

"You mean, you could never _again_ betray him," Danny corrects. "And to be honest, I could give a sh*t about your feelings for Christian; all I want is that sexy body of yours. Once I get bored with you, you can go back to him."

"Go to hell," Syed shouts, enraged. "This is the only money you're going to get off me, so take it; and, from now on, stay out of my life," he warns, throwing the envelope of cash at Danny and marching past him towards the door.

"So, let me get this straight, you've destroyed two of your parents' businesses so far; and now you're prepared to not only destroy their new business, probably their last chance; but to leave them without a roof over their heads. It's your little brother I feel most sorry for; what age is he, three or four? And, of course, little Yasmin; it's a good job she's with her mum, because it's pretty obvious you'll never be able to support her …"

"Enough," Syed cries, suddenly swinging back towards him and throwing a punch.

"I don't think so, not this time," Danny growls, ducking to avoid the approaching fist; whilst at the same time moving quickly forward to grab Syed around the waist, and force him backwards until he trips and they both end up sprawled on a very soft and very luxurious rug.

"Get off me," Syed shouts, struggling against him; but Danny is stronger, and easily holds him down.

"I'll get the money, somehow, today," he recklessly promises, twisting his head away from Danny's searching mouth.

"Let me explain to you how it's going to work," Danny hisses close to his ear. He grips his jaw firmly, dragging his face back to him; and roughly forces the kiss, his tongue intrusive, demanding.

"Please Danny," Syed says shakily, when he eventually pulls back.

"Please what?" he huskily responds.

"I don't want this; I don't want you."

"But you do, you have from the beginning. Those beautiful eyes give you away every time: you tell me to go, you order me to leave you alone; even as they plead with me to stay, to devour you."

"I'm sorry if I mislead you into thinking it could be anything more than a one-night stand. If I've hurt you, I'm sorry ..."

"Don't flatter yourself," Danny angrily cuts him off. He grips a fist-full of his hair to hold him still, and his mouth quickly descends once more.

"No, please; please don't hurt me," Syed begs.

Danny hesitates, the words jolting him. He looks down at the fear in Syed's eyes, the glaze of tears.

"We can forget this ever happened, if you let me go now," he pleads.

"I could never hurt you," Danny gently reassures. Letting go of his hair, he moves to stroke his cheek; his thumb brushing away the few escaping tears. "I've never met anyone quite like you. I'd do ...," he trails off, unwilling to admit just how far he would be prepared to go for this man.

"If you let me leave …," Syed begins hopefully, sensing a moment of weakness.

"No, I don't think so," he says softly, with a smile that has Syed's butterflies abruptly awake and fluttering like mad.

"That night, it was just sex; it wasn't supposed to mean anything," he says rashly.

"Mean anything?" Danny asks, a hard edge underling the teasing tone. "Why would you say that?"

"No, nothing, I didn't mean …" Syed trails off, flustered. "You didn't want me to marry Christian; you kept coming back; you beat him up; why would you do all that if you didn't feel something, if you weren't … jealous, maybe?" he warily tries to explain his reasoning.

"I was bored; your situation intrigued me. It was a challenge to see what I could get you do, how far I could push you and that ridiculous husband of yours; the adult equivalent of pulling the wings of butterflies, you could say; but it was nothing more that," Danny lies, his tone casual, indifferent. "I got a mind-blowing f*ck and £6,000 for my efforts; not bad for a few hours' work, wouldn't you say?" he adds tauntingly.

"I wish I'd never met you," Syed hisses, deeply hurt by his words.

"Don't lie," Danny responds, grabbing Syed's hands and forcing them above his head, to stop his attempts to push him off of him. "I brought a bit of excitement to your dull, miserable existence."

"You're so hateful …"

"I knew you'd be good; sometimes you can tell with a guy ...," Danny moves on to pondering. "The way you shyly responded to my less than subtle flirting technique, the twinkle of promise in your eyes ... I knew you wanted it as much as I did. But that night, it was so far beyond … you were so f*cking hot."

"Danny …"

"Your skin was so soft, your body so responsive," he breathes. "I remember what you wanted me to do to you …"

"Stop this," Syed gasps; but it's too late. He is now suddenly very aware of their situation: the hard, muscular body on top of him, pinning him to the floor, the tight coil of sexual tension building within him; his blood pumping faster, his heart beating faster, Danny's scent is now overpowering him; his body is sensitive to the slightest movement, the slightest touch ... Syed desperately tries to pull back, to re-focus his thoughts; but Christian suddenly seems a long way off, a vague image he cannot hold onto; and he finds himself unable to look away from the piercing stare of this dangerous man.

"I remember how it felt to have you clinging to me, digging your fingernails into my back as you came, your body shaking, convulsing with the force of your orgasm." As he says the words, Danny deliberately leans into him, and Syed can't hold back his harsh intake of breath. Danny's head dips and he captures his mouth before he has time to recover.

This time, the kiss is softer, gently persuasive; it builds slowly, with Danny increasing the pressure only when he feels Syed is ready.

As his mouth slides to his throat, Syed instinctively arches his neck in submission; and as Danny's body moves against him, his own trembles in response. He is barely aware of his jacket being removed, his shirt buttons being undone. During the past four months Syed's imagined this so many times, he has ached for this man he barely knows; he has a fleeting feeling of shame at what he's allowing to happen, and then Danny does something which pushes all rational thought out of his head.

_Sometime later_

"What happens now?" Syed asks, his head bowed, his voice subdued.

"You go back to hubby, and you tell him you're moving out; you pack your stuff and you bring it back here," Danny coldly informs him. He presses a hard, possessive kiss on his mouth, and then gets up to go have a shower. Syed remains lying on the floor where he left him for a few more minutes, unable to believe what's happening. Finally, pulling himself together, he gets up, pulls on his clothes and leaves."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Sy, what happened to the £200 Jane sent us to tide us over until we started making money?" Christian asks as soon as he walks in the door; "I went to the cash point this morning and there was only £10 left in the account."

"Christian, we need to talk."

"What have you done this time?" he asks wearily.

"I can't stay here anymore."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm breaking up with you," Syed says, his voice shaking with the effort to get the words out.

"You know, I really can't take any more of this bulls*it. I thought we'd moved on from the 'I don't know what I want' or "who I am", or whatever the f**k it was, phase. Honestly, sometimes, you're little better than a child, a spoilt child. It's Zainab I blame, she's …"

"It's over," he says huskily.

"Are you being serious?" Christian asks, a note of fear now entering his voice.

"Yes," he whispers, his eyes filling with tears. He starts to move towards the bedroom. "I'll get my stuff."

"No, stop, stop this," Christian suddenly shouts, grabbing his arm. "You love me; I know you do. What's brought this on?"

"We haven't been getting on recently," Syed mumbles inadequately.

"That's all? Oh man, for a minute there I actually thought you meant it," Christian responds, his voice ringing with relief. "Look, I know Birmingham wasn't exactly a barrel of laughs, but we're back now; everything will be alright now, you'll see," he soothes. "You do get some silly ideas into your head sometimes," he laughs, pulling him into his embrace. "It's a good job I never take you seriously." He gives him a firm hug and a kiss, and then goes to start his shift in the Vic with the parting shot, "I'd still be interested to know what happened to the money."

#

Syed doesn't have a lot; all his clothes and possessions fit into a couple of bags. His heart feels heavy as he takes one last look around the room where he spent such happy times with a man who had such a huge impact on his life, a man who pretty much saved his life. The idea that, after everything they've been through, it's come to this sad end hits him hard. He is under no illusion that once Danny tires of him, he will be able to win Christian back. He knows he's burned his bridges for good this time.

"For once, be honest with yourself," the irritating little voice in his head pipes up. "Even if you had the option, you wouldn't want to go back to him. The truth is, you're relieved to have the decision to leave him taken out of your hands."

"Syed ignores it, as he has done many times in his life.

#

"What's going on?" Christian demands, when he returns unexpectedly to find Syed with his bags packed. He swipes the note he's about to leave on the pillow out of his hand and reads: "I'm sorry. I love you, but I can't be with you anymore."

"What the f**k is this?" he explodes.

Syed picks up his bags and starts to walk past him.

"The day of our wedding, I asked you to marry me only if you were sure you loved me," Christian reminds him, his voice full of suppressed rage. "So why did you turn up, why did you marry me, if you didn't?"

"I did, I do still love you; but … that day … I didn't want to hurt you, to disappoint everyone."

"But you always end up hurting everyone, disappointing everyone, don't you? That's really all you're good at."

"I wasn't ready to get married; I told you."

"You also told me you wanted to marry me more than you'd ever wanted anything. You even repeated your wedding vows the day we left for America, to show me how much you meant them."

"I was terrified of taking the final step to end us; I knew it would mean losing you completely out of my life and possibly never seeing you again; we'd been together so long."

"Oh my God, give me strength; do you have any idea how much sh*t you speak sometimes; contradicting yourself over and over again, back-tracking, changing your mind. I never know where I stand with you."

"I'm sorry."

"No, you're selfish. And after everything you've put me through; you're going to move back home now, and leave me with nothing."

"I'm not moving back home, you should probably know," Syed says nervously."

"Where are you going? Are you leaving Walford again?"

"I'm moving in with Danny," Syed says, almost inaudibly.

"Danny? Are you f**king kidding me? After everything he's done."

"It's complicated," Syed says miserably.

"Get out of my sight," Christian roars, pushing him out the door and banging it after him.

"I'm so sorry," Syed begs one last time, his face pressed against the door.

"Save it for someone who cares," Christian responds, his voice breaking over the words.

###

"All done?" Danny casually greets, when he answers the door.

"Yes, I've told him," Syed dully confirms. He walks past him into the apartment; and then stops abruptly, not knowing where to go or what to do.

"The bedroom's through there," Danny directs. "There's some wardrobe space; unpack your stuff. Once you've settled in, you can cook us some dinner, anything you want. Pop to the local Halal butcher, I assume you know where it is, and buy whatever you need," he instructs, throwing a couple of £50s in his direction. "There are a couple of electronic cards by the door: the blue one gets you in the main front door, and the red one is for the door to the apartment. I'll be back in a couple of hours," he adds, grabbing his jacket and walking out.

Syed stands looking around him unsurely for a few minutes before slowly making his way to the bedroom; which stylistically is an extension of the living room: a perfect blend of black and white; sleek, luxurious, with everything in its place. A shiver runs through him as he thinks about what he's done to bring himself to this cold and unfriendly place; so very different from the homely flat he shared with Christian. Opening a couple of wardrobe doors, he finds more regimentation: black, grey and navy suits lined neatly end to end in one; (very) smart-casuals filling the other. The third wardrobe is empty, and his clothes hardly fill a quarter of it; his bags look so tattered and worn sitting against the beautiful white wood of the wardrobe door. Hung up, his meager possessions look shabby and uncoordinated in the expensive surroundings. Syed has a shower, changes his clothes, and makes his way to the kitchen; another black and white ensemble. Pretty much all he really knows for sure about Danny is that he likes the food at the Argee Bhajee (or at least he thinks he does). He goes out to buy some meat and spices, and finds the rest of what he needs in the well-stocked kitchen to make Beef Karahi with naan and rice. Everything is ready when Danny returns.

#

"This is delicious, nicer than the food at your restaurant," Danny observes. Syed makes no comment.

"You not hungry?" he asks after a little while.

"Giving me the silent treatment?" he queries, when Syed doesn't respond.

"This isn't going to work," Syed says quietly. "I can't live here, I don't know what to do; I don't feel comfortable here."

"You'll get used to is," Danny says dismissively.

"What will I do all day?"

"You'll work in your brother's restaurant part-time, but no nights. And you'll help me with bits and pieces when I need you to; you'll also cook dinner for us every evening. Once you've worked off your debt, I'll pay you the going rate for any research work you do. Now, help me load the dishwasher." Assuming the discussion over, he gets up and takes his plate and glass to the kitchen.

Nothing more is said, and Danny disappears into the bedroom. Syed puts a few things away, and straightens the cushions on the couch. He looks nervously towards the bedroom door, not knowing what he's supposed to do. Sitting down on the couch, he picks up a magazine and absently leafs through it.

"Syed, get in here?" Danny calls from the bedroom, making him jump. "It's only 8pm," he thinks uneasily. Nevertheless, he gets up and walks slowly, reluctantly towards whatever awaits.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The next morning, Syed struggles to wake from a deep sleep. Hazily looking around the unfamiliar room, he is unsure for a moment where he is. Rubbing his eye with the palm of one hand, whilst reaching out with the other to turn the clock on the bedside table towards him to check the time; his movements are clumsy and he accidentally knocks the clock to the floor.

"Morning sleeping beauty," a female voice calls from the en suite, startling him.

"Um, morning," he replies uncertainly, his dry mouth struggling with the words.

"I'm Nicki, nice to meet you," she adds, poking her head around the door.

"Nicki?" Syed weakly repeats.

"Hope I didn't wake you," she offers, her eyes drifting over him as she speaks.

Following her interested gaze, Syed becomes aware that he's giving her a lot to look at. He makes a grab for the quilt, which has slipped almost off the bed; and winces in pain, as his body protests at the sudden movement.

"Wild night, was it?" she teases. "You look a bit dishevelled."

Syed's guilty blush answers her question.

"I've been expecting you for months; what took you so long?"

"What are you talking about, and who are you?" he responds, his voice now a little stronger and with a hint of annoyance at the intrusion.

"I'm Danny's aunt; I clean here a couple of hours, 2-3 mornings a week. And you're Syed, right?"

"Yes," he confirms.

"And how do you know Danny?"

"We're friends," Syed mumbles, blushing even more.

"Very good friends, I'd have said," she laughs.

"Would you mind …?"

"Of course, I can finish cleaning in here after you've showered and dressed," Nicki helpfully offers, but without moving.

"I'm not getting out of the bed until you leave the room," Syed says pointedly.

"Spoilsport," she teases.

As soon as the door closes behind her, Syed immediately jumps out of bed and runs to lock it.

"What am I doing here?" he asks himself despairingly, as he sinks back down onto the bed. "A moment of brutally-vivid recollection of exactly what happened after he walked into the bedroom the night before, harshly reminds him of how very willing he'd been after his initial awkwardness; and appears to be the basic answer to this question.

"He turned our lives upside down, he ruined everything; and yet, last night I ... I ...," he stutters to a halt, overcome with shame. His troubled thoughts stop him in his tracks for a while; but the sound of the hoover coming from beyond the bedroom door jolts him into action once more.

"It was just like this with Christian in the beginning," he reflects, as the spray from the shower hits his aching limbs; "I could barely walk for the first few weeks." Those first few idyllic weeks after he moved in with Christian were the happiest of his life, and he accepts that his last chance of getting them back has now gone. He knows he doesn't deserve to cry over Christian, but does so anyway.

After a long shower, he feels slightly more human. When he walks back into the bedroom, he spots a note pinned to the pillow; and for a crazy moment, imagines it saying something intimate, affectionate even. Reading it, he is quickly disabused of that notion:

_Syed:  
- log onto computer - log in: dpennant; password: syed5  
- will send you emails with instructions for work  
- assume you'll want to get to restaurant for 12 to help your brother with lunch  
- Nicki's coming in at 9 to clean; have told her you'll be here  
- I'll be home around 8 - cook whatever you fancy for dinner_

"Right. Well, I guess I now know how things are going to be," Syed says to himself. He's not quite sure what to think about that, so he doesn't; he finishes getting dressed.

"I've made a pot of coffee," Nicki greets as he walks out of the bedroom.

"Thanks," Syed responds. He gets himself some cereal and goes to sit at the breakfast bar.

"So, what's the deal with you and Danny?" she begins, as she sits down opposite him.

"We're friends, it's complicated … I'd rather not talk about it," he replies, more in hope than expectation.

"Where did you meet?" she persists with her line of enquiry.

"What did you mean earlier when you said you'd been expecting me for months?"

"Danny first told me about you back in October; gave me the impression you'd be moving in within weeks. I assumed you were part of the reason he bought this place. But then, time passed and there was no sign of you; and when I asked him what had happened, he barked at me to mind my own business."

"I see," Syed says, surprised.

"Last night, he phoned to tell me you'd be here when I came to clean; that you would be living here from now on; that I should stay out of your way, leave you alone, not ask loads of questions, etc.; made such a big deal about it."

"Well, you obviously listened to him," Syed laughs.

"I've never known him to make a fuss over a guy before, so of course I want to know what's going on. Danny's a vulnerable, sensitive boy; he needs protecting from anyone who might try to hurt him; and you've obviously let him down in the past, so …" she trails off expectantly.

"Right," he says, slightly mystified; he wonders how she could possibly be speaking about the Danny he knows. Sensing she won't need much encouragement to carry on talking, he waits; and sure enough …

"He's been practically all alone in the world since he was 16, you know; since my stupid brother and sister-in-law rejected him."

"They rejected him?" Syed can't help being drawn in, curious despite himself.

"They're both religious, Catholics; they take it seriously: go to church every Sunday; say prayers; believe everything the Vatican tells them, including the bit about it being a sin for a man to have sex with another man; so you can imagine their reaction when they find out they have a gay son."

"How did they find out?"

"Tony, Danny's dad, is a policeman; and during one of his night shifts there was a raid on a gay night club in the area; a tip-off about drugs. And who do you think they found in one of those dark rooms out back, and him wrapped around some guy?"

"No," Syed gasps in amazement.

"It didn't help that Danny was drunk at the time, and only just turned 16.

Anyway, the fallout was massive. Tony came to see me the next day in a right state; told me the all about it: Said he got the shock of his life when he entered the bar and came face to face with his youngest son; but that Danny hadn't seemed particularly bothered about being caught out. According to Tony, he'd been generally difficult and uncooperative: embarrassing him in front of the other officers by shouting at him to leave him alone and to mind his own business, among other things. He also demanded to be let stay in the bar; and in the car on the way home, kept going on about wanting to return; saying he had unfinished business to take care of, and accusing Tony of rudely interrupting them."

"Really; 'unfinished business', he actually said that? Syed asks, stunned. "Although, maybe, if he was drunk ..."

"He maintained that Tony had cost him £25 by dragging him away when he did."

"He was charging for it?" Syed asks faintly.

"I suppose £25 is a fair bit of money to a 16-year-old," Nicki concedes.

"Sex really doesn't pay very much, does it?" Syed muses.

"Sex? No; it wasn't sex, it was pool."

"He was playing pool in the dark room of a nightclub?" Syed asks confused.

"No, of course not, that would be impossible; how would you even be able to see the balls to pot them?"

"I wouldn't have thought there would be much call for a pool table in a nightclub," he can't help offering the opinion.

"No, the pool table was in the pub," Nicki responds sharply, now becoming slightly impatient at his failure to keep up with the story.

"So Danny wasn't in a nightclub?" Syed asks; his head beginning to spin.

"The pool table was Tony's version of what happened. He told me that they raided a gay bar, and that Danny was in the bar at the pool table playing pool when they walked in – he never mentioned a night club. You see, Tony wouldn't have been able to tell me the truth; he would have been too ashamed."

"So Danny told you what actually happened, later?"

"No, he's never spoken to me about it."

"So what made you think he was wrapped around a guy in the dark room of a nightclub?"

"Well he could have been," Nicki says defensively. "And if it wasn't one of those dark rooms, it was definitely somewhere with very poor lighting; there's always very poor lighting in those places, so that ... stuff can happen discretely, if you know what I mean."

"Maybe," Syed says unsurely.

"You see, it's different for young gay men," she patently explains, as if he might not already know a very much about them, "they want excitement; they go out at night to hook up with other guys, not to do something as dull as play pool. How can you scope the room looking for hot guys if you're bent over a pool table?"

"Well, if you're bent over a pool table, you're letting hot guys scope you out," Syed helpfully points out.

"It's a possibility," Nicki concedes.

"You've been to a few gay bars and clubs, then; you know what goes down?" Syed teases.

"No, but I've done research online; and I've watched films, soaps. I read this article once, an interview with one of those soap actors; he talked about going to clubs with dark rooms where you could have sex till you dropped; there were sexy pictures of him with this guy, a photo shoot; it was all quite shocking, but strangely fascinating," she confides with a girlish giggle.

"So you think that's what Danny does when he goes out," Syed realises. He has to bite his lip to stop himself laughing as he imagines Danny's reaction if he knew just how curious his aunt was about his sex life. "Have you mentioned any of this to Danny?" he asks.

"Yea; I've tried to get him to open up about what it all means to him; about the places he goes, the men he meets; but he won't talk to me about any of it. I found condoms in the drawer of his bedside table, so I'm not too worried on that front. But it's not just about him being careful; I don't want him to feel that he has to hide that part of his life. If he were straight, he'd be able to casually talk about going out, meeting girls, etc.; so why shouldn't he be able to do the same as a gay man?"

"I'm sure, even though he might not say it, that he appreciates your support," Syed says sympathetically.

"Anyway," Nicki says, bringing them back on track, "after that night, Tony was full of guilt; blaming himself for what he felt was Danny's 'fall from grace'. They'd never been particularly close; and he believed that if he'd tried harder to understand him, spent more time talking to him, been a better father; that Danny wouldn't have ended up 'losing his way'. I remember telling him at the time that he should be more worried by the fact that his 16-year-old son had been drunk and in a bar late at night instead of at home revising for his exams. But, of course, all Tony could focus on was the 'horrific' possibility of Danny being gay.

Melissa, Danny's mum, wouldn't stop crying and lamenting the loss of her precious son. I seriously doubt she could have been any more upset if he'd actually died.

Tony raged at him for hours, but Danny wouldn't back down. He was all defiant, insisting he had nothing to be ashamed of, that he'd done nothing wrong. When Tony realised that it didn't matter what he said, that Danny was going to continue to live his life exactly as he wanted to, something inside him snapped; and from that day to this, he's shut Danny out of his life; refusing to even acknowledge his existence."

"That's tough," Syed says thoughtfully.

"Normally, my brother is a good, caring man; he gets great satisfaction from being able to help people and make a difference in their lives. Religious brainwashing is the only way to explain his cruel behaviour towards a member of his own family. I swear, logic and reason go out the window once religion gets a grip on a person."

"I don't think it's that simple," Syed ventures. "Many people who aren't religious still struggle to accept homosexuality."

"Of course; but you must admit that having something as powerful and influential as religion, which seems to stop millions of people thinking for themselves; to have it teaching people that something is bad/wrong/a sin really doesn't help; and in lots of cases can be dangerous and even indirectly life-threatening. Are you religious?"

"Yes, I'm Musl*m."

So I suppose you were brought up to believe that homosexuality is wrong?"

"We're supposed to believe it's against God's will; but I've reconciled myself to being gay and Musl*m. I've gotten to a place where I believe God accepts me as I am."

"Now imagine if you weren't gay; would you still believe it was wrong?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do; you would think the same way as my brother," Nicki says confidently.

"I hope I would never reject a person because of their sexuality; no matter what my own beliefs or sexual preferences were."

"It's a noble sentiment in theory; but most of the straight men I know, religious or otherwise, would struggle if their son came to them and told them he was gay."

"Danny's lucky to have someone like you in his life," Syed says sincerely.

"He needs someone to look out for him; he's too gentle for this world."

"Yea," Syed agrees, whilst privately wondering if Nicki really knows Danny at all.

"Right, I'd better get back to work, or I'll never be done," she decides, getting up to rinse her cup in the sink.

"Me too," Syed agrees. He is curious to know more about 16-year-old Danny, but is wary of prying for fear of it getting back to him.

###

_Later that day, in another part of town_

"Christian, Christian, wait," Zainab calls, rushing towards him.

"Zainab," he murmurs, his eyes lowered.

"Didn't you hear me?" she demands, grabbing his arm.

"Sorry, bit distracted."

"Where's Syed? I've been trying to get hold of him; his phone's switched off. I thought you could both come for dinner tonight."

"I don't know or care where Syed is," Christian says dejectedly; he looks up as he says the words, and Zainab is shocked to see his puffy eyes and pale, unhappy face."

"Have you had a row?"

"It's over," he whispers. "He's left me."

"Come with me; we can sort this out," she gently cajoles, taking his arm and leading him towards the house. Making a couple of cups of tea, she sits him down and waits for him to tell her about some minor bust-up.

"He's moved in with Danny," Christian says, his tears slowly trickling down his cheeks.

"What?" she gasps, stunned.

But Christian doesn't elaborate; so she has to bite down on all the questions she is desperate to ask, and concentrate instead on taking care of him. "Are you hungry, you probably haven't eaten; I'll cook something," she decides, rushing off to the kitchen.

###

"You're quiet," Tamwar observes. "Anything wrong? You haven't sold Kamil to get the money to pay Ian the deposit on the flat, have you?"

"I'm just a bit tired," Syed absently assures him.

"Things okay with you and Christian?"

"Fine," Syed mumbles unconvincingly.

"You're missing Yasmin."

"Yea," he agrees; wretchedly realising as he does so that he hasn't thought of his adorable little daughter once in the past 24 hours.

"You'll work something out with Amira, I'm sure of it," Tamwar gently consoles.

"Everything's such a mess," Syed sighs.

"It's always darkest before the dawn," Tamwar wisely advises.

"Is it, really?" Syed asks, unable to hold back a smile.

"Would you mind, once the lunchtime rush is over, doing the takings? I've kept the bookkeeping up to date, but if you could take a look …"

"No," Syed responds sharply. "We agreed that I would only come back here to do the leg work; I'm not touching anything to do with the money side."

"Syed, don't be silly; I know you wouldn't …"

"Tam, please don't think that just because I've said I was sorry, you can trust me now; I've let people down too often to deserve anyone's trust."

"You didn't …"

"Syed," Zainab's voice booms from the doorway. Tamwar jumps with fright, but Syed simply walks away and into the kitchen. Zainab grabs his arm before he can duck out the back door.

"No, you don't; you're going nowhere until you've explained yourself," she growls.

"Mum, what's wrong," Tamwar asks. "Where's Kamil?" he adds as an afterthought.

"Your brother has left his husband of only a few months and shacked up with that horrible Danny," she bluntly informs him. "'Shacked', that's the right word, isn't it?"

"Syed?" Tamwar cries, shocked, "I didn't know you were still in contact with him."

"Of course you didn't; do we ever really know what Syed is up to?" Zainab scoffs.

"Mum, let him speak," Tamwar snaps. "Syed?"

"There's nothing to say," Syed mumbles.

"But you love Christian," he reminds him, his voice bewildered.

"We've got tables to set," Syed responds, attempting to walk past him.

"You do still love him?"

"Syed, do you?" Zainab angrily chimes in, when he doesn't respond.

"Yes," he mumbles miserably.

"So, why are you doing this?"

"I don't know," he says with a shrug of his shoulders.

As they watch him walk away, they realise that he is once again keeping them in the dark about something important.

#

"You bastard, you f**king bastard," Roxy screams from across the Square when she spots Syed coming out of the Argee Bhajee that evening.

Doing his best to ignore the curious stares of everyone around them, he waits for her to march across to give him a piece of her mind.

"The way you've treated Christian is disgusting," she shouts in his face. "I always knew you'd let him down one day; didn't expect you to sell yourself to the highest bidder, though – hey everyone, here's Syed the gigolo, living it up in a penthouse with some shitty banker only a few months after getting married.

"I didn't mean to hurt him," Syed says quietly.

"Bullshit, you've spent most of your relationship dithering, not wanting to commit; he's never known where he stood with you. You never truly loved him the way he deserved to be loved."

"I'm sorry."

"You will be, believe me," she hisses. "By the time I'm finished with you, you'll be back on the vodka and pills."

"Roxy, please," Syed says shakily, the colour draining from his face; he nervously looks around him at the small crowd gathering.

"You couldn't even manage to commit suicide properly," she bluntly spells it out for their audience. "Everything you touch goes wrong; everyone who gets close to you ends up regretting it; you're poison," she spits the words in his face.

"Rox, that's enough," Alfie steps in. He drags her away; and Syed quickly walks away in the opposite direction, his head down. He manages to make it back to the apartment without running into anyone else.

_Later that night_

"Rough day, or are you having another go at the silent treatment?" Danny asks, when he sits pushing his food around his plate.

"It was fine," Syed responds, "I'm just a bit tired, that's all."

"Well, I suppose it's understandable," Danny grins, and Syed blushes.

"I met your aunt Nicki," he offers, mainly for something to say.

"You didn't say anything to her, did you?" Danny asks sharply. "She thinks she has the right to know my business."

"I didn't say anything," Syed assures.

"Good; I don't want her to know … she wouldn't understand."

"Blackmail isn't very complicated, I would have thought," he says quietly.

"You say one word …"

"Yes, I know what you'll do; you've made yourself more than clear on that point."

To avoid an argument, they eat in silence; and after what feels like an appropriate amount of time has passed, Syed gets up and takes his plate to the kitchen. Once there, he finds he doesn't want to return to the table. He feels so lonely, so miserable; the feeling reminds him of when he first arrived in Leeds all those years ago. It had surprised him back then how much he missed affection, kind words, hugs. "Christian spoilt me," he thinks with a sad smile. "Even when things were difficult between us, he was still all over me all the time." Thinking about Christian leads him to Roxy and his run in with her earlier. He recalls see her face, filled with hatred; the horrible words pouring from her; bringing up the past and his terrible sin against God and nature. He thinks of his mum's anger and disgust at his treatment of Christian, his brother's disappointment. He can well imagine what his dad will say, once she tells him about his eldest son's latest effort to disappoint them. "Once again, I've let everybody down," he thinks wretchedly.

"Are you missing him?" Danny asks softly, coming up behind him as he stands, head bowed, deep in thought with his hands resting on the kitchen counter top.

Sliding his arms around his waist, Danny presses his mouth against the exposed area of his neck.

"Danny, I can't do this," Syed says miserably. "I want to go back to live with my family."

"It's not really such a hardship, is it?" he murmurs; pressing more firmly against him, his hands reaching to undo the buttons on his jeans.

"Please don't," Syed says unhappily. "I can't … not now."

Ignoring him, Danny slips a hand inside his jeans, cupping him.

Syed inhales sharply, as darts of pleasure shoot through him at the touch; every unhappy thought in his head is instantly obliterated. His focus is now firmly fixed on what Danny's hand is doing; on the sensation of Danny's breath on his neck, and on Danny's other hand moving up under his t-shirt and over the sensitive muscles of his stomach towards his chest. Of its own violation, Syed's head turns, his mouth searching for Danny's. The kiss quickly grows frenzied, and then Danny is urgently pushing him forward so that his upper body is fully over the worktop; he impatiently pushes his head down onto the hard surface, whilst roughly nudging his legs apart.

And Syed no longer cares about anyone or anything.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Over the next few days, Syed develops a routine of sorts: he drags his exhausted body out of bed each morning, has a shower, reads any instructions that may have been left for him, has breakfast and gets to work. He spends his afternoons at the Argee Bhajee; and pops around to see his mum, dad and Kamil before returning to the apartment in the evening to get dinner ready for Danny. He tries not to think very much about his situation; he simply accepts it. Danny seems like a stranger to him now; he can't find any trace of the person he got to know back in October. He doesn't know what to say to him, or if Danny even wants him to do any more than make polite conversation. The only time things don't feel awkward is when they are having sex. Syed knows Danny doesn't have any regard or even respect for him. He tries not to feel cheap, but doesn't quite succeed. He knows everyone back in the Square is whispering about him, and that his parents are ashamed of him, again.

One evening, Danny returns in a foul mood. They eat in silence, without even the pretense of exchanging a few words; and he goes straight to bed once they've finished. Syed doesn't know what to do; he sits on the sofa for ages wondering if there is any way he can save himself this time. Eventually, he gets some spare bedding and goes to sleep in one of the guest bedrooms.

_3am in the morning_

"What are you doing in here?" Danny asks.

"What?" Syed mumbles, struggling to wake up; his eyes squinting to adjust to the light from the bedside lamp.

"I fell asleep, didn't realise you hadn't come in."

"I didn't think you would want me to disturb you," Syed explains.

"Come to bed," Danny says. He turns to leave, expecting him to follow.

"No, I'm fine here in this bed," Syed says stiffly. He fiddles with the quilt as he waits for the put down, the threat of retribution.

Instead, Danny comes to sit on the side of the bed. He reaches out to touch Syed's hair, tucking a few stray strands behind his ear, his hand lingering to caress his cheek. He studies his face for a moment without speaking. "You've barely been here a week, but already I've gotten used to sharing a bed with you," he confesses with a sigh. "It's lonely …"

"I hate living here," Syed interrupts; the words bursting from him. "It's not like a home; it's so cold and impersonal; and you're so … so remote … you've made it more than clear you don't like me; and I can't live like this. I want to move back home."

"No," Danny says quietly, but firmly.

"You can't stop me; I could go to the police, report you …"

"Promise me that I won't come home one evening to an empty apartment, and a note telling me you've gone back to him.

"But … what I just said," Syed stutters, thrown off guard by the sudden note of pleading in his voice.

"I won't let you leave," Danny insists, but his voice lacks its usual confidence.

"Danny …," Syed says, but he doesn't know how to finish the sentence. Danny's eyes, with the slightest trace of vulnerability, are looking intently into his own; and he finds he can't bear the thought of hurting him.

"I need you to stay," he says softly. His hand moves to cover Syed's, to still their jittery movements and spare the quilt. And with his touch, his gaze, his words lulling him, Syed has no resistance when Danny's leans down to kiss him.

"Please stay with me," he whispers against his mouth.

"Okay," Syed responds; the word slurred, barely there.

Without breaking the kiss, Danny pulls back the quilt and gets into the bed. Gently pushing Syed onto his back, his body covers him. His kisses move to his throat and then down to his chest, where they stop.

"Um, Danny?" Syed says hesitantly.

"Need sleep; heavy day tomorrow," he mumbles with a yawn. And from the way his body relaxes against him and his breathing slows and becomes more regular, Syed realises he is already almost asleep.

Biting his bottom lip, Syed looks down for a moment at this guy who knows exactly what to say, what to do to get him to agree to just about anything. "Why do I feel so intensely drawn towards this person I hardly know?" he wonders uneasily. "Danny is basically a nasty piece of work; he's dangerous and unpredictable; he has pretty much destroyed everything in my life," he reminds himself one more time.

"Syed, it's okay," Danny mumbles, his voice thick with sleep. Forcing his head up off of Syed's chest, he gives him a haphazard kiss, which manages to land on the side of Syed's mouth; before letting his head drop heavily back onto his chest once more. Syed realises that he's been holding his body too rigidly; he takes a deep breath and slowly releases it, trying to relax. He then pulls the quilt up over them, and soon falls asleep.

**###**

Next morning's note is short: "I didn't mean to upset you." Syed puts it in his wallet.

#

"So, you slept in the guest room last night; hope you weren't giving my Danny a hard time, withholding the goods," Nicki pounces as soon as he walks out of the bedroom.

"Morning Nicki," Syed says with a smile. "Just because I slept in the guest room doesn't mean …"

"It was in the note."

"What are you doing reading my notes?" he asks sharply. "I thought we agreed …"

"If you're giving my Danny a hard time …"

"Maybe it's him giving me a hard time; did you ever think of that?" Syed snaps.

"Kettle's boiled; come and tell aunty Nicki all about it," she says soothingly.

"Everything's fine, honestly," he says with a sigh. "We had a tiff, but we sorted it."

"Danny's good like that; never holds a grudge."

"Yea, he's the best," Syed responds, but his sarcasm is lost on Danny's biggest fan.

"Did you see Corrie last night? I love the way that every time Dev mentions Sunita and the fire in the Rovers, Karl always happens to be nearby listening and looking anxious," Nicki moves on to more general matters and Syed eventually gets logged onto the computer half an hour later.

#

_That evening_

"Dinner will be ready in ten minutes," Syed calls, as Danny walks in the door. "What are these?" he asks a few minutes later as he notices Danny placing photos around the room.

"I had an idea; left work early," Danny grins.

Syed bursts out laughing as he checks out the first photo of his mum standing in the doorway of their house looking shocked. "What did you do?" he laughs, as he moves along to check the second photo of his dad in the street with a handful of post and a suspicious look on his face. The next has Tamwar standing in the Argee Bhajee with two plates of food, looking surprised, or maybe confused. Another is a picture of Kamil with a big smile. "At least Kamil won't be embarrassed when he sees his photo," he laughs.

"Yea, he's a natural; and a lovely little boy," Danny says. "As soon as I mentioned I was his big brother's friend, he was all chat."

"Who's this?" Syed asks looking at the last picture.

"Don't know, just a friendly dog; thought he looked cute," Danny shrugs.

"Did you take any other photos?" Syed asks.

"Yea, one or two nice spots in the Square; though there weren't many to choose from, and a couple of others; I didn't get prints."

He takes out his camera and hands it to Syed to take a look.

"These really are amazing; you've got a good eye," Syed smiles, as he flicks through photos taken at angles to make familiar places look more interesting and vibrant. "You enjoy taking photos, it's obvious …" He stops suddenly as he clicks onto at a picture of himself asleep.

"Don't you dare delete it," Danny warns, his head popping over his shoulder as the "Delete, yes/no" screen appears. Syed reluctantly chooses "No". As he clicks to the next picture, he finds another similar one of himself. "You took these this morning?"

"Yea; you looked so peaceful, so relaxed," Danny murmurs, sliding his arms around his waist. "You looked so beautiful, I couldn't resist," he whispers, pressing a kiss against his cheek.

"Shut up," Syed says huskily, without moving.

"Dinner," he mumbles after a moment; "I'd better go check on it."

"And I'd better go and have a shower," Danny responds, kissing him once more before walking into the bedroom.

As Syed watches him walk away, he bites down hard on the feeling of hope welling up inside him. "It was just a gesture; he never does anything that doesn't benefit himself; you know he can be charming, he charmed you out of £6,000," he sternly reminds himself. Nevertheless, his mouth insists on slipping into a smile as he walks back to the kitchen.

He fails to notice the three large bags next to the couch.

When he brings in the plates of food a little later, there are large red cushions are on the couch and arm chairs.

"Where did these come from?"

"I thought the place could do with a bit of colour," Danny says casually.

"Right, well they're nice; I like red," Syed responds awkwardly. Feeling flustered, he looks down at his food. He is very aware that he's overreacting to something which shouldn't be a big deal. "Even if he's trying to be nice, and if he cares enough to want me to be happy here; it doesn't matter because I don't care about him; I'm only here because he forced me to be," he grittily reminds himself; and Danny sees the way his hand resting on the table tightens into a fist.

"If you hate the colour red that much, you'd better tell me now; because I've put a red quilt cover and red pillows on the bed, too," he prompts.

"No, I really do like red," Syed insists, snapping out of his reverie. "And you're a bit of a fan, I take it?"

"I'm not fussed either way, to be honest; but you were wearing a red t-shirt the other day and it looked nice on you, so I imagined how you would look with your head resting on a red pillow and went with that," Danny explains the choice. "If you fancy adding anything else or changing anything, go for it," he adds, his face now slightly flushed.

"I didn't mean to insult your taste; it was rude of me," Syed murmurs.

"You didn't; it was my brother Vince who decorated the place; picked out the furniture; all of it. The only instructions I gave him were that I wanted a big, black leather couch and the biggest TV he could find. Since the all-white kitchen had already been fitted, he just went a bit mad with the black and white colour scheme throughout the apartment. Maybe I should have asked Tara to decorate it instead."

"Tara?"

"My sister."

"You speak to your brother and sister; you see them often?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I?"

"No reason," Syed quickly assures.

"Syed?"

"Nicki might have said something about you being all alone in the world …"

"Oh my God; I'm going to kill her."

"No, don't say anything; I might have picked it up wrong," Syed anxiously insists.

"I warned her …"

"Danny, don't you dare have a go at her," Syed warns.

"Fine, but I don't like you two gossiping about me behind my back."

"We've barely mention you," Syed lies.

"Liar," Danny says, but with a smile in his voice.

"She worships the ground you walk on."

"Well, I am pretty special, I suppose," Danny concedes.

"Not to mention arrogant," Syed grins.

"Yea, that too."

"I didn't notice any photos of your family around the place; after dinner, maybe we can put some up," Syed suggests.

"Don't have any," he replies with a shrug.

"But you must have, at least one or two."

"Tara'll have loads; I'll get her to email me some tomorrow." As he says this, Danny leans back on his chair and gives Syed a big, open, contented smile; completely taking his breath away. "Get a grip," he viciously coaches himself.

"Something bothering you?" Danny asks; reaching out to take Syed's hand, which is once more clenched in a fist.

"No," Syed says huskily, shaking his head.

"Are you still upset about last night?"

"No …"

"You know I can't let you leave," he says quietly; his grip on Syed's hand growing a little tighter.

Syed's heart flutters at the possessive tone. They share a long intense look. "I know," he says softly.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_The following afternoon_

"No need to cook tonight, meet me at 7.30 at The Plateau wine bar in Canary Wharf," Danny's text tells Syed.

#

"We can eat here, and then head into town," he suggests, when Syed slides into the booth opposite him.

"Sounds good," he politely agrees.

After the waiter has taken their drinks order, Syed spends a few minutes looking around him at all the smartly-dressed business men and women; feeling a little under dressed in his white shirt and leather jacket.

Danny discretely studies Syed, and wonders how he always manages to look so much better than any other man in whatever room he happens to be in.

"How has your day been?" he finally asks.

"Fine."

"Restaurant busy?

"Yea."

"Are you going to give me only one-word answers?"

"Maybe," Syed says with a reluctant smile.

"Should be a fun evening, then."

"Did you have a good day today?"

"Yea, not bad."

"The other day …" Syed tentatively prompts.

"The day I came home in a foul mood?"

"You don't have to tell me …"

"Part of my job is to look after a portfolio of Eurozone investments for the bank; and, as can sometimes happen, there was an announcement by some Finance Minister in Brussels that morning which caused panic in the markets. I spent the day frantically trying to minimise the damage to the bank. And just to finish it off; before I left that evening, I had to report to my pr*ck of a manager, who gave me a load of shit about it all. It really wasn't a good day."

"Your job sounds exciting."

"Yea, it is, mostly; but sometimes it's pretty scary. Since the Banking crisis of 2008, the Government has brought in new regulations designed to make it more difficult for us to take risks with other peoples' money; which makes it harder to reach profit targets."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"Depends on where you're coming from. If a bank takes less risks, it makes less money; resulting in staff cut backs, reduced bonuses; so my job is pretty much always on the line; it's only as secure as the next quarter's results."

"Is your job really at risk to that extent?"

"Well, maybe not my job, but definitely my bonus," Danny concedes with a sheepish smile.

"According to the media, your bonuses were too high."

"Yea, and it suited us very well," Danny grins.

"Doesn't it bother you, taking risks with other people's money?" Syed can't help asking.

"Did it bother you?"

"Have you any ideas about what you'd like to do once you've paid off your debts?" Danny asks after a moment of angry silence on Syed's part.

"I'm no longer looking for a quick fix. I think the best thing for me would be to try to find a job that pays a steady wage."

"It doesn't sound very ambitious."

"My biggest ambition in life now is to save up enough to put a deposit on a 2-bed flat. Once I have my own place, I can decorate one of the bedrooms for Yasmin; and put a plaque on the door with her name on it; so that she will always know she can come and stay with her daddy whenever she wants and for as long as she wants."

"There's no room for fun and excitement in your future, then?"

"I've had enough excitement over the past few months to last me a lifetime; I'm no longer interested in taking risks of any kind."

"Making money doesn't have to be risky; I can help you do it in a more controlled way."

"The way you helped me last time?"

"How could I resist? You were a perfect mixture of desperation and naivety; it was like taking candy from a baby," Danny fondly reminisces.

"It didn't bother you that you were going to destroy my life?"

"I had other plans for you. I figured that if you had nothing and I offered you a way out, a chance to live the good life, you'd jump at it. I didn't bank on you being so loyal to that idiot."

"Don't insult him; he's a better man than either of us could ever be."

"Only because he doesn't have the brain power to do anything exciting or vaguely interesting."

"I mean it, Danny; I won't sit here and listen to you bad mouth him," Syed warns.

"I speak as I find," he responds with a careless shrug.

"You can be so horrible sometimes," Syed cries in frustration.

"And yet, you can't resist me," Danny reminds him; he suddenly leans forward to grab his arm and pull him closer. "You're so weak, so vulnerable; and it turns me on so f**king much," he breathes, his voice low and passionate.

"Don't, not here," Syed responds huskily, blushing.

"Fuck, I wish we were somewhere more private," Danny growls, pulling back, his body language screaming his frustration. His hot gaze burns through Syed until he can no longer remember where he is.

"Danny," he whispers.

"You really have to stop looking at me like that; or I won't be able to keep my hands off you, and we'll end up getting thrown out of here for indecent behaviour," Danny huskily advises.

Syed blinks a couple of times, forcing his baser thoughts away. "I … I'm not …," he tries to say, but his voice fails him. Clearing his throat, he tries again. "I'm not the sort of guy who would …"

"You don't fool me; I know that underneath the 'nice boy' act, there's a lot going on you're trying to suppress."

"You don't really know me," Syed weakly denies.

"I got to know you pretty well that very first day, when you were trying to tell me without telling me, about your life: your conflict with your parents; living a life people wanted for you rather than the one you craved; about almost dying to be happy. I knew there was a whole personality in there trying to get out. And the more I've gotten to know you, the more you fascinate me: the nice, polite, religious boy constantly struggling to suppress the hot-blooded, sexy bad boy with a hint of corruption; what a delicious combination."

"Why did you pick me to scam?"

"It didn't start out like that; to begin with, it was just about attraction. You were serving us that day in the restaurant; I noticed you and thought, 'I'll have a bit of that'. Later when I came back and you told me about your money problems, I saw an opening. I put the bait on the hook and waited for you to bite. Making money and shagging are two of my favourite things; the chance to combine them, it was a no-brainer."

"You seemed nice," Syed remembers wistfully.

"Have you ever met a scammer who wasn't?"

"But afterwards; you had the money and … everything; so why keep coming back; why try to completely ruin me?"

"After your stag do, once I realised you were serious about marrying that, that ... Christian, I tried to walk away. Unfortunately, you're a difficult person to forget. And, well, you remember about the sex, right?" he adds with a teasing smile.

"Mmm," Syed mumbles, a blush stealing up his cheeks once more.

"The night of your stag do; when you insisted it was Christian you wanted, I knew you were lying. If your dad hadn't turned up, I'd have f**ked you right there in the restaurant; it only needed a bit more pressure, and you wouldn't have been able to resist."

"No, I made it clear …"

"Yea, you said all the right things; and if you'd been able to control your breathing when I came anywhere near you, I might have been convinced."

"I never gave you any …"

"Even after I told you your money was lost, you still struggled to resist," Danny smugly reminds him.

Syed decides not to comment any further on the matter.

"Later, the whole thing with Christian and the beating; I was pretty angry with you by that stage," Danny continues. "No one plays games with me and gets away unscathed; you weren't going to be allowed to just brush me aside. But then you turned up with half your family; and I had no choice but to walk away for the moment."

"Dad gave you no choice; he would have turned you in to the police for fraud," Syed reminds him.

"You handed me a bundle of cash, I gave you no receipt. You couldn't prove anything."

"So why did you walk away that day when my father challenged you?"

"I couldn't risk the police looking into my affairs at that time; they might have found something I didn't want them to find, something I wouldn't want the bank to know about."

"Such as?"

"I couldn't possibly say," Danny says with a sly smile.

"And if the police looked into your affairs now ..?"

"They wouldn't find anything."

"I signed a contract, back in October."

"Did you actually read the fine print?"

"You didn't care about what you were doing to me?"

"Not particularly; I wanted you, and I always get what I want. That arrogant fool you were with; he was so easy to wind up, to manipulate; no matter what happens, you're well rid."

"The way you treated Christian was despicable. He had all these plans for us, for our future together, and you destroyed them in a matter of weeks," Syed says sadly.

"If you'd been truly happy together, I wouldn't have been able to break you up."

"What chance did we have against someone like you; lying, scamming, blackmailing ..."

"I didn't blackmail you into having sex with me that first time."

Unable to deny it, Syed moves the conversation along. "Have you swindled lots of people?" he asks.

"A few; I don't plan it, but if the opportunity arises …"

"Your actions wreck lives; doesn't that bother you?"

"If someone, who doesn't know me from Adam, is stupid enough to give me a wad of cash on the vague promise of an unrealistic return on their investment, they deserve everything they get."

"Thanks," Syed says sarcastically, stung by the insult.

"You knew me for, what was it, a little over a week; and yet you trusted me with your family's savings …"

"I've learned my lesson," Syed responds bitterly.

"There you go, job done; no need to thank me," Danny says dryly.

"You have no conscience, no sense of morality," Syed says irritably.

"Are you trying to save my soul?"

"Your soul is none of my business."

"You're religious, right?"

"Yes."

"So, isn't it your duty to try to get me back on the righteous path?"

"I've never gone in for that kind of thing. I believe it is my duty to look after my own soul, and to always behave in a way that will commend me to God."

"Selling dodgy cleaning products isn't very Christian."

"I'm Musl*m."

"That's not very Kosher behaviour in any religion, I would have thought."

"No," Syed has to uncomfortably admit.

"So, if you're religious, how can you do something like that?"

"I'd made some bad decisions; things had gone against me and I'd lost my business. I was just trying to catch a quick break; take a shortcut. I needed to support my daughter, and …"

"A sin is a sin."

"I know," Syed says quietly.

"But you are human; doing stuff you're not proud of goes with the territory. 'Let he who is without sin cast the first stone', and all that."

"Are you religious?"

"Lapsed Catholic."

"So you should be riddled with guilt about just about everything," Syed points out.

"Although I was brought up a Catholic, I found it difficult to make sense of it all: all those cheap tricks; the idea that God is everywhere, etc."

"Tricks?"

"The Catholic Church prefers to call them miracles, but to me they always seemed more like magic tricks: bringing that guy Lazarus back from the dead is simply an elaborate version of the trick where a guy in a box gets sawn in half; producing an endless supply of loaves and fishes from a basket is simply a more messy version of pulling rabbits or doves out of a hat; and I've never understood why the Son of God would do something as mundane as turning water into wine, even if it was at a wedding. Ultimately, they're all cheap illusions. Maybe Jesus was nothing more than the first magician to go global? If he tried to pull all that sh*t today, he'd be laughed out of town."

"It was a simpler time back then; people would have understood those miracles," Syed reasons. "Food, wine, life and death; these are some of the things they were most concerned with. If Jesus were to pull a Smart Phone out of his pocket and show them an episode of Midsomer Murders, they would probably have run away terrified."

"I'm not talking about gimmicks," Danny persists. "If God exists, and he sent his Son to save us; why didn't he do something worthwhile like inventing antibiotics or penicillin; imagine how many more lives would have been saved if we'd known about those medicines a thousand years earlier?"

"Maybe Jesus wasn't allowed to do anything that might distort the future," Syed suggests.

"We're not talking about Michael J Fox in Back to the Future," Danny laughs.

"Get lost," Syed responds sulkily.

"If Jesus came among us today," Danny continues, warming to his theme, "and he decided to perform a miracle or two to get our attention; he could do worse than turn all the cocaine and heroin in the world into sugar; and, maybe, zap all the people who are cruel to animals, all the rapists, ped*philes and mass murderers in the world into a mass dungeon deep in the ground and seal the entrance; locking them away for ever to fight amongst themselves."

"What about investment bankers; could he zap them as well?" Syed teases.

"Very funny," Danny grins.

"And as I was saying," he adds very seriously, as if it were a plan of action which might actually one day be considered, "for his final miracle, instead of water and wine, Jesus could turn dry desserts into fresh water lakes so that everyone would have enough to drink."

"What a lovely idea," Syed smiles. "I knew that deep down you had a heart."

"Deep, deep down," Danny qualifies.

"Did you ever truly believe in God, or were you only a Catholic because your parents brought you up that way?"

"I stopped believing that there was a God around the same time I stopped believing in St Nic and his flying Reindeers; in other words, when I was old enough to think for myself," Danny reveals.

"I believe in God; my religion is very important to me," Syed stiffly responds.

"I'm not mocking your beliefs. I totally understand, and respect how important your faith is to you; but I also think it's healthy to have questions; not to just automatically accept everything."

"You mean questions like: is it wrong for two men to be in a relationship?" Syed asks with a smile.

"Exactly," Danny grins. "I'll admit, I sometimes wish I believed in God. I might not stress so much about the mundane shit we go through every day, if I thought there was something so much more important."

"No matter how bad things have ever gotten for me, I've always found great comfort in prayer," Syed murmurs.

"I get drunk and pass out after I've had a bad day," Danny admits.

"You can't get a hangover from speaking to God," Syed says with a smile.

"Good point," Danny laughs. "I haven't seen you using your prayer matt; a mate of mine at Uni used to pray five times a day."

"I pray when you're at work."

"You don't have to hide it from me; I wouldn't give you any grief about it."

"Do you ever think about what happens when we die?"

"Are you thinking of having me bumped off?"

"No," Syed laughs, "just wondering."

"I assume we rot; in fact I'm pretty sure of it. The most powerful draw of religion is that it gives people the hope of an alternative outcome, and I've always envied people who are able to buy into that."

"What about your soul?"

"I've never quite been able to grasp the concept of having a soul; if you said 'heart' or ' brain', I might be able to consider it."

"It's from your soul that you get your conscience and your feelings. They try to guide you to do good deeds. The good deeds you do in life feed your soul and make it stronger; which in turn brings you inner peace and contentment. I believe that after I die my soul will remain in a kind of soul sleep until Judgement Day; when I will be judged, and the good and bad things I've done in this life will determine my fate."

"Are you trying to convert me?"

"No, I think a person's faith or lack thereof is their own affair, I would never try to influence you in a particular direction. I just want to explain; to try to make you understand that whether or not you believe in God; if your behaviour is at odds with what is right and good, you will never find peace and happiness in this world."

"You haven't exactly done many good deeds recently," Danny reminds him.

"I know, but I want to be a good person; I strive every day to be a good person, whereas you don't care."

"It's the 'Good' people who often do the most damage, you tend to find. People who can't be bothered believing in anything usually can't be bothered sticking their noses into other peoples' lives; telling them what to do or think; and in extreme cases persecuting them because they don't wear the same 'religious badge'."

"I told you, I don't try to convert people; and I definitely don't have a problem with other religions."

"I didn't mean you; you come across as being very easy going; to the point of not wanting to rock the boat, you might say."

"I don't like to upset people," Syed admits. "I could never deliberately hurt anyone."

"Are you having a dig?" Danny asks smiling.

"Does it really not bother you when you rip people off?"

"Like I said, I only target …"

"Danny, you can't be so unfeeling; what if someone scammed your mum, your sister, your brother."

"I don't do it very often, and the people I rip off deserve …"

"Nobody deserves to lose everything they have," Syed argues, his tone growing heated.

"We're never going to agree …"

"It's not about agreeing, it's about right and wrong."

"Syed, just drop it."

"If you promise not to do it again," Syed stubbornly insists.

"What are you, my mother?"

"Danny."

"Keep your nose out of my business," he warns.

"If you want me to continue living with you ..."

"You don't really have a choice about that, remember?"

"I mean it Danny," Syed refuses to back down. "The way things stand; if I stay with you, I'm condoning your behaviour."

"You've been in my life five minutes …"

"Please Danny," he begs, "how can I be around you every day, knowing that you're putting other people through what I went through? All the misery you caused me and my family ... And what if you try to scam the wrong person; someone who seems harmless, but who has dangerous friends; and some thugs show up at the apartment …"

"I'm not a Goodfella, and we aren't living in some drug den."

"You know what I mean; you could get beaten up; you could end up in jail, or dead."

"Syed, enough," Danny growls impatiently.

"Okay, whatever you want," he responds, his tone flat. He sits back and away from him, he takes a drink from his glass and looks away, around the room; a barely discernible sigh escapes his lips.

"This really is none of your business," Danny angrily reminds him.

Syed shrugs, as if it doesn't matter; but of course it does. The mood has shifted. "I don't really feel like eating now," he says flatly. "I think maybe I'll head back to the apartment."

"I'll think about it," Danny says through gritted teeth.

"Okay," Syed says, giving him a tentative smile.

"Why did you and Christian go to the US back in November?" Danny abruptly demands, wiping the smile off his face.

"What?"

"Why did you suddenly decide to leave?"

"It was Christian's idea; he was upset that I'd let my ex-wife take our daughter Yasmin to Birmingham, and had decided to leave without me. But then we resolved our differences and agreed to go together."

"Why didn't you stay in the US?"

"The plan was to spend a few weeks there, and then move back to the UK, to Birmingham, to be near Yas. As it was a last minute decision for me to go, I hadn't filled in the online immigration ESTA form which you are required to submit at least 72 hours before you travel; so I was refused entry. I got sent back to London and went from there to Birmingham; Christian stayed with his mum and sister for a couple of weeks and then he also returned."

"How was Birmingham?"

"Fine," Syed says, his tone a little defensive.

"Were you unhappy there?"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"Why not?"

"Why should I tell you anything about my life with Christian, after everything you've done to ruin it?"

"Technically, it was you who brought me into your lives."

"I don't want to talk about Christian," Syed barks.

"Please tell me about Birmingham," Danny urges, his hand reaching across to cover Syed's. "I won't comment; I'll just listen," he promises.

"There's not much to tell," he delays.

Danny waits.

"It wasn't much fun," he reluctantly confesses. "Apart from the odd bar shift and some poorly-paid, back-breaking construction work, we couldn't find any work. Birmingham has the highest rate of unemployment of any of the big cities in the UK. Living mostly on benefit, we could only afford a tiny bedsit with a two-ring cooker and a bathroom share; we spent a lot of time sitting around doing nothing; we got on each other's nerves a bit, it was only natural."

"It sounds rough."

"It wasn't always easy."

"But you should have known how it would be; he was getting on your nerves before you ever left the Square."

"No, he wasn't," Syed heatedly exclaims, "and I thought you weren't going to comment."

"I could see something wasn't right between you that night at the stag do, and I'd only known you a few weeks."

"We'd had sex the night before; that might have given you a bit of a clue."

"True," Danny says with a smug smile, "but it was more than that; his over-the-top 'look at me having such a good time' act was either embarrassing or irritating you so much you had to leave your own stag do; that's not a good sign."

"I left because I could see you laughing at him, and he was making it easy for you."

"You were ashamed of him."

"No," he almost shouts; but, quickly looking around and remembering where they are, manages to bite down on his anger.

"Yes, you were," Danny continues to press, "because you knew what I was thinking, it was the same thing you were thinking; what you'd been thinking for quite a while – Everything you'd originally found endearing about him: his enthusiasm, his exuberance, his love of life; you eventually found as irritating as finger nails on a chalkboard."

"When you're in love, you accept each other's faults; not that they were faults ..."

"When you're in love, you don't usually have sex with your local friendly banker."

"That was just a fling; I was under pressure, worried …"

"And once you got me out of your lives and you got away from all your pressures and worries, everything settled down again and you were happy with Christian, were you? You didn't think about me the whole time you were in Birmingham?

I take it from that cute little blush that I made a slightly stronger impression on you than a mere fling would suggest."

Syed takes a deep breath, struggling to control his growing anger.

"Why did you choose to leave with him?" Danny relentlessly pursues.

"I've told you, we discussed things …"

"Try again."

"Well, it's not like you promised me anything," he impulsively snaps, and then wishes he hadn't.

"Oh, I was supposed to, was I?"

"No, I didn't mean …"

"Of course you didn't," Danny says with a knowing smile.

"You ruthlessly took money you knew I desperately needed; there was no way I could have trusted you."

"So you went for the safe option."

"No, I went with Christian because I thought that if we were away from Walford and all our problems, that we would find a way to be happy again," he insists, "and because I still loved him," he adds as an afterthought.

"If you loved him, why did you have sex with me?"

"That was a mistake."

"Really?" Danny responds in disbelief. "I don't really think you can pass it off as a mistake; it's not like you were being impulsive; you knew what was likely to happen that night; you'd taken plenty of time to think about it before agreeing to meet for a drink; and of course you can't say you were drunk ..."

"You were nothing more than a distraction from my problems," Syed angrily hisses. "All I wanted from you was sex."

When Danny merely looks amused, he doesn't understand for a moment.

"Are you ready to order?" the waitress politely asks.

Totally mortified, Syed slowly turns to look in her direction. Her extra-large smile does nothing to ease his embarrassment.

"Um," he mumbles.

"Can you give us a few more minutes?" Danny asks, and Syed doesn't have to look in _his_ direction to see that he's trying really hard not to laugh.

"I'm glad you're finding it funny," he snaps once they are alone once more.

"No, it's not funny, of course it's not; you just admitted that you used me for sex," Danny says, his tone filled with hurt; but the laughter in his eyes gives lie to his apparent distress.

"Yea, well you pushed me too far. I told you I didn't want to talk about Christian, but you wouldn't listen."

"I come in here regularly with clients, and that waitress often serves us. How am I going to face her now? I'll know exactly what she's thinking; and she'll tell everyone I'm gay, and easy," Danny laughingly complains.

"Well, you are easy; back in October, you practically threw yourself at me," Syed says sulkily, trying keep a straight face.

"Do you blame me? Have you seen yourself?"

"Get lost," Syed mumbles, blushing once more.

"I'm only human."

"Your colleagues, your clients; they don't know you're gay?"

"I don't shout it from the roof tops; I try to be discrete, but I don't mind people knowing."

"Yea, I don't rush to tell people either," Syed confesses.

"Whatever you're most comfortable with."

"Yea," Syed agrees, liking that idea.

"Now, back to Christian."

"I don't want to have this conversation," Syed says sharply.

"Why not?"

"Because you only want to hear about a relationship falling apart, so you can enjoy another person's misery. You've made it clear you don't like Christian ..."

"I'll admit I'm not his biggest fan; but all I'm trying to do here is understand what was going through your mind when you made the decision to leave with him."

"Please can we just talk about something else?"

"Not until you admit the truth," Danny insists.

"What do you think the truth is?" Syed asks in exasperation.

"I think that you leaving with Christian had a lot to do with the fact that without him, and with no money coming in, you wouldn't have been able to hold onto your flat; you'd have had to move back in with your parents; it would have been a step back, not exactly into the closet, but as near as makes no difference; no sex on tap, loads of hassle every time you tried to hook up with a guy ..."

"That's ridiculous," Syed cries in disbelief. "You think I would go all the way to the US …; and anyway, my parents accept that I am gay now, and they're used ..."

"They're used to you being with Christian, but how do you think they would react to seeing you with another guy; or to seeing some random guy walking down the stairs and out the door the next morning. You'd gotten used to the freedom you enjoyed with Christian; you would have suffocated at home, and you knew it."

"If you're not going to listen to me …"

"I'll listen when I hear something that sounds believable."

"That's enough," Syed warns.

"All you have to do is admit that you stayed with that muscle Mary …"

"How about, I admit that every time you insult Christian, I hate you a little more; and that it doesn't matter what you say about him or how you try to twist things, I'll never stop loving him," Syed spits the words at him in a fit of temper. He goes to get up, but Danny grabs his arm; pulling him back down.

"How touching," he sneers contemptuously.

"Let go …"

"I must admit, I've never been in love," Danny cuts across him, his voice icy. "I couldn't bear to let anyone have that kind of power over me. Maybe that's why I always go for guys I have no respect for; there's no danger of becoming attached."

"What do you mean by that?" Syed foolishly asks.

"Well, let's take you, for example: you're a thief, a liar, a cheat; and worse than that, you've nothing to show for all your deceit; you've lost your husband, your daughter, the respect of your family. I've come across guys like you before; usually when they come to the bank looking for loans; all flash in their cheap suits; fake designer shoes and watches; peddling their rubbish business ideas. They think they're charming, really selling it; but ultimately they never get the loan; because as soon as you start to dig deeper, their house of cards comes crashing down. How many times have you been turned down for a loan Syed Masood? No, don't answer; it doesn't even matter, because you don't matter; because you're one of life's losers, and you always will be."

He tightens his grip on Syed's arm, as he tries to pull away.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining; you've got other much more interesting talents; Christian obviously taught you well. In fact, if you know how to play the game, you need never again worry your pretty little head about money. I can introduce you to some of my wealthy gay friends; recommend you, as it were; and once I'm done with you …"

"I don't deserve to be spoken to like that," Syed finally manages to speak; his voice trembling, his eyes bright with tears.

Having got the reaction he was looking for, Danny lets go of his arm; and he gets up and walks out.

"Did I forget to mention that finding you was the best thing that ever happened to me," he says huskily as he watches him leave. After a moment, he absently brushes a thumb across his eyes; and, picking up his glass, swallows his whiskey down in one.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 **

Syed has his bags packed by the time Danny returns to the apartment.

"Won the lotto, have you?" he asks casually.

"I'm not staying here; this ends now," Syed informs him, without looking in his direction. He walks into the bathroom and haphazardly scoops his toiletries into a bag; and, coming back out, drops the bag in with his other stuff.

"I assume you haven't forgotten your family's situation?" Danny asks, as he watches him rushing about.

"Do what you have to do," he responds with studied carelessness. After quickly skimming the room to make sure he hasn't missed anything, he picks up his bags and starts to walk towards the door.

"You're not leaving."

"Get out of my way," Syed orders, when Danny moves to block his escape.

"Syed, calm down."

"I said, 'Get Out Of My Way'," he shouts, pushing him hard in the shoulder in an attempt to get past.

"Be careful," Danny warns.

Beyond caring, Syed goes to push past him once more, but Danny grabs his hand before it can connect; and, grabbing his shoulder with his other hand, he forces Syed backwards until the backs of his legs hit the side of the bed and he loses his balance, falling onto it. Danny then rips the bags out of his grip and throws them carelessly aside.

"You can't do this," he shouts, outraged; and immediately gets back up.

"I can do whatever I like to you; you've given me that power over you," Danny sneeringly reminds him. Pushing him hard in the chest, he sends him crashing back onto the bed.

"Danny, no," he cries, but it is more a plea than a command, his anger-fuelled confidence having evaporated in the face of Danny's forceful response. He turns his head away; but it doesn't matter, because Danny makes no attempt to kiss him. He grabs at Danny's hands; trying to halt their progress, as they impatiently tear open his shirt, undo the buttons on his jeans; but his own hands are trembling so much they make no impression. "It can't just be about sex," he pleads, but Danny isn't listening. The sense of urgency in his movements, the way he roughly drags the jeans over Syed's hips, his thighs ...

"I won't …," he weakly tries to insist, and yet he can't help a shiver of anticipation. He tries to be strong; his hands touch Danny's head bent over him, they move to his shoulders; he tries to find the strength to push him off, but it ends up being little more than a caress, barely felt. And then it's too late; and his head falls back, his hands grip the quilt; and his hips lift off the bed, bucking in helpless response. And it turns out that, actually, he will ...

#

"You okay?" Danny asks a little later.

"Fine," Syed mumbles. He gets up and goes to have a shower in the spare bedroom en suite.

"I've cooked some Spaghetti Bolognese, come and eat," Danny calls a little later, when he hasn't reappeared.

"I'm not hungry," Syed calls back, his voice slightly muffled.

Danny opens the door to the spare bedroom and finds him curled up on the bed.

"You'll feel better after you've eaten," he tries to coax.

When Syed doesn't respond, he goes to sit beside him on the bed. "Please, Syed," he says softly, reaching out to stroke his cheek.

"The stuff you said earlier?" Syed mumbles tearfully.

"Forget about that," he quickly dismisses.

"It's obviously what you've been thinking …"

"Syed …"

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised … I've let you make a fool of me yet again," he realises hopelessly.

"You're overreacting …"

"Maybe it's a good thing that this has happened; I needed reminding of what's really going on here, and of how vicious you really are."

"Come on, don't be like this," Danny tries to coax. He leans down to try to hug him, but Syed pushes him away.

"Not that I should need reminding, after everything you've done," he laughs bitterly.

"Would you like to watch a film?"

"From now on I'll know my place. I'll deal with the emails, cook the dinner, as usual; but I'll sleep in here …"

"No."

"… and you'll know where I am when … when you want …"

"Have you seen Blood Diamond? It's brilliant; one of my favourites ..."

"How can I spend every day and night with someone who has such a low opinion of me?" Syed says sadly. "No one has ever spoken to me in such a cruel …"

"And by 'no one', I assume you mean Christian," Danny wearily responds.

"This is nothing to do with Christian," he protests.

And then Danny asks the question he has been trying really hard not to ask from the moment he returned to the apartment, "Did you mean it when you said you would always love him?"

"What?" Syed asks, surprised. He looks up at him sharply, studies his troubled expression carefully.

"You know, it doesn't actually matter, forget I asked," Danny abruptly decides. Turning quickly away from his penetrating gaze, he gets up to leave the room. "Dinner will be ready in five minutes, and I'll expect you to join me," he coldly orders.

"It wasn't always easy with Christian," Syed says quietly before he reaches the door.

"No?" he responds a little too quickly. He turns back with indecent haste, and comes to sit back down on the side of the bed to hear more; an expectant look on his face which reminds Syed of Kamil when he's waiting to hear his favourite bedtime story.

Syed slowly pushes himself up into a sitting position, and takes a deep breath. "He could be difficult at times, especially when he wanted … stuff," he reluctantly admits.

"What sort of stuff?"

"A baby, marriage; stuff like that."

"That's pretty major _stuff_," Danny says with a smile. "A man with a ticking biological clock can be pretty scary."

"I let him down so badly."

"You broke up with him; it's a shame, but it's not a crime. He's disappointed right now because he ignored all the signs that you weren't happy and never really listened to you when you were trying to tell him you had doubts."

"He had no reason to think … I never really made it clear to him that I wasn't as sure as he was about everything."

"Christian was too busy planning your life together to see the signs that it was already over."

"He hasn't just lost me, he's lost my daughter Yasmin as well," Syed says sadly.

"Now that you're back in London, you won't be able to see her anymore?"

"No, I will," he reveals, his face brightening. "Amira has broken up with her fiancé, and they'll be moving back to London any day now."

"That's convenient timing," Danny remarks.

"I never expected it; she seemed happy enough with him. He was always fussing around her, which she loved."

"I've got to ask, how did you manage to get yourself married to a woman?"

"We met when I was doing business with her dad; I loved her, and I thought we could have a good life together."

"You loved her, the way you loved Christian?" Danny asks curiously.

"No, but I was very fond of her; she was more like a good friend: nice, fun to be around. I was physically and emotionally attracted to Christian; I'd never felt that way about anyone. I eventually gave up my family for him."

"I'm guessing that in the beginning this great love was based on lots of sex and hushed conversations about being together and finding ways of being together. And then, after making such a huge sacrifice to be with this amazing person, to find you have so little in common once you are living openly as a couple must have been such a shock."

"Why can't you leave it? Why do you have to belittle what we had?" Syed asks, his voice rising in agitation. "Why can't you understand that it hurts me when you ...?"

"We're just talking," Danny gently soothes. "I won't criticise him …"

Syed throws him a look.

"I'll try very hard not to criticise him, I promise," he promises, leaning over to give him a gentle kiss to prove that, this time, he really does come in peace.

"We did have things in common," Syed mumbles.

"Did you like the same books? Has he read Dostoyevsky's _Crime and Punishment_? Do you like books about body building?

I'm just curious," he adds when Syed gives him another sharp look.

"All that reading you've obviously done hasn't had a strong influence on you; it hasn't stopped you from being morally bankrupt," he challenges.

"You haven't answered my question."

"I don't know what books he likes, we haven't discussed it," he lies.

"When you weren't discussing what you were going to cook for dinner, what did you talk about?"

"We talked about lots of things."

"Such as?"

"Christian cared about me; he was a good person; he would never have swindled me out of money he knew I desperately needed."

"When you lose a few thousand, you're unhappy for a few weeks, months; a baby you don't want is for life."

"So, what did _you_ think about _Crime and Punishment_?" Syed deflects; I suppose you identified with the selfish, proud Raskolnikov."

"Who?"

"The main character; he kills the pawnbroker and her sister."

"I've never killed anyone," Danny laughs.

"And you've never read the book either," Syed accuses.

"I glanced at it."

"You're kidding."

"To be honest, I'd probably be more likely to check out the body-building books," Danny offers sheepishly.

"You're a total fraud," Syed can't help laughing.

"Why did you cheat on Christian?"

"I needed to know that there was more to me than him; that he would always be there for me no matter what I did," Syed automatically repeats the answers he gave Christian.

"Bullsh*t," Danny laughs. "Is that what you told him? Because if it is; it's a great way of saying nothing, of avoiding telling the truth. You might as well have said 'It's not you, it's me' or 'I need to figure out who I am' or the old classic, 'I don't know what I want'; you didn't say any of those, did you?"

"What do you mean by 'truth'?" Syed side-steps the question with one of his own.

"That you weren't happy; that you hadn't been happy for a long time; that the reality of living with him was a far cry from the fantasy."

"I was happy."

"No you weren't; and if I hadn't come along, you'd be stuck with him for the next 20 years. You'd find yourself compromising over and over again, doing things you didn't want to do. Every so often, you'd break out and do something reckless to try to prove to yourself you could. He'd take you back each time, forgive you; act all superior, patronising."

"I needed to know that I could be me without him, that's why I cheated," Syed suddenly remembers.

"No, the cleaning products, the business you started with your wife; they were a way to prove you could still be yourself. You hooked up with me because you wanted me so badly you didn't care about the risks. You think I couldn't see the way your eyes practically sparkled with interest every time you looked at me?"

"You're so full of yourself," Syed accuses with a smile.

"I've got plenty to full of myself about."

"You're nothing special," he teases.

"The trick is to act as if you are," Danny confides.

"The things you said earlier about having no respect for me, and the other stuff; the words came so easily to you …"

"We both got a bit carried away in the end," Danny awkwardly tries to make light of it.

"Maybe a part of you believes it," Syed suggests, his voice subdued.

"It's easy to pick on a person's subconscious fears; it's what I do best," Danny murmurs, looking down in the direction of his hands. "I don't see you like that; but I imagine you probably do, in your weaker moments."

"Well, I don't see myself having sex with your wealthy gay friends for money in my weaker moments," Syed indignantly corrects him.

"I don't have any wealthy gay friends," Danny admits, his head still bowed.

"You lie so easily."

Danny shrugs helplessly. "I needed to know how you really felt about Christian, but when you said … what you said …"

"… you didn't like it," Syed finishes for him.

Danny nods uncomfortably.

Syed lifts a hand to touch his cheek; and he turns his head to press a kiss against his palm.

"I really didn't mean any of it," he whispers.

"You don't have to worry about Christian," Syed reassures, as he gently pulls him into his arms.

"I'm not worried about him," Danny denies, as he lifts his legs onto the bed and settles himself more comfortably against Syed; pressing his face against his neck, inhaling his familiar scent; his lips touching his soft, warm skin. He releases a sigh of relief at being forgiven.

"I'm in a different league to him," he murmurs after a little while.

"You're certainly different," Syed smiles.

"Why did you go to so much trouble to bring me here?" he hazards asking; but it is a question Danny isn't yet ready to answer.

"I'm starting to wonder," he responds, giving an exaggerated, long-suffering sigh.

"Danny ..."

"You know, there's a guy in North London who owes me £700, so if you don't stop asking annoying questions …"

"Really?" he asks uneasily.

"No; there is a guy, but he's straight, ugly, boring," Danny quickly reassures; sealing it with a kiss.

"No, no, I can't go another round on an empty stomach," he protests, eventually pulling away as Syed starts to remove his t-shirt. "You know how much I like my food."

"Yea," Syed sighs, letting him move away.

"If I re-heat the dinner, will you come and eat?"

"Okay," he responds.

"The guy in North London who owes you money …," he calls after him.

"He's not important."

"Danny."

"It's been weeks since I've spoken to him; I'll probably let it go."

Syed allows himself a cautious little smile.


End file.
